Beneath That Sky
by VegaEridani
Summary: The sea awaits the winter snow


**Disclaimer:** Mirage of Blaze is the creation of Kuwabara Mizuna Sensei. I am a mere spectator captured within its splendor.

**Author's note:** This was inspired by the Mirage of Blaze Drama CD (Tokimeki Telephone Track 7) and was originally part of another fanfic that I wrote but I decided to turn it into a separate story. However, I could not find the right moment to bring it out... for too many reasons. Not in the least the fact that I still have no idea what the HECK I'm doing.

The 7th Chapter of My American Fictionary's magnificent piece "Nights with Matches & Knives" finally gave me the courage to share this.

**Warning:** Possible spoilers and the after-effects of a fanfic writer who spent too much time in the sun...

**Acknowledgement: **As always, many thanks to the translators of Mirage of Blaze and all the members of the MOB LJ Community.

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><p><strong>Beneath That Sky<strong>

The street lamps flickered forlorn amidst the swirling of snow and rain. Overhead, thick heavy clouds looked blearily down upon the quiet city that huddled within itself against the wintry evening. The streets have been blanketed in snow, but not the soft white powder where children played and built snowmen, but rather the damp greyish substance that mirrorred the depressing skies. In the distance, a foghorn called out a warning to no one in particular, as ships wisely chose to remain moored.

The young man drew the thick collar of his snow coat more snugly around his throat and rubbed his palms together for warmth. This was probably the coldest winter of his life, and for reasons far beyond the bone-chilling winds that buffeted him against the protective railing that overlooked the cove. He ought to be going back now, the weather forecast had warned that it would even get colder as northern winds continue to batter the coast throughout the night. Yet, somehow, he didn't want to go home. No matter how warm the hearth, an empty house bore the coldness of the near-empty streets.

He sighed. Something pricked his eyes and he blinked annoyedly. He thought he had no more tears to shed. Nearly and entire year had already passed, and yet... He coughed slightly, trying to control his breathing. Crying wouldn't help, his throat hurt, his tears would only freeze in the cold.

He adjusted the fuzzy cap on his head, carefully tucking his ears beneath the thick wool and as he did so his gaze fell upon the other person who had been standing at the far side of railing.

Even through his own musings, he remembered that the man had been there even before he arrived. He was dressed warmly, the heavy dark coat of cashmere and fleece fitted his tall, broad-shouldered frame rather nicely. A thick fleece hat covered his head, and pulled low over his eyes, making it difficult to fully see his face.

The young man carefully made his way closer, keeping one mittened hand on the railing, until he stood a few steps away from the stranger. They were standing within a small enclosure near the seawall, protected by the natural rock outcropping that sheltered the coast. Surrounded on three sides by reinforced stone, the howling winds were slightly muted.

The man didn't seem to notice him at first. Looking at him more closely, he thought that the man was probably in his thirties, well within his prime. Handsome features as if carved from the same unrelenting granite surrounding them were completely void of expression as he stared out at the lashing sea.

"Good evening," the young man ventured tentatively.

Dark brown eyes with lights of amber and jade turned to look at him, as the man nodded a greeting.

"Are you new around here? I haven't seen you before," he asked, lifting his voice above the keening of the wind. He didn't really expect a reply, A curt set-down, at most. A polite but definite request to be left alone, perhaps. The small smile that tugged at the corner of the man's mouth and the wistful look in that jewelled gaze made him blink in surprise.

"I used to live here... a long time ago," he said, his voice had a slight edge that hinted at authority and power, but at the same time was low and gentle, a pleasant, soothing rumble that seemed to emanate from deep in his chest.

The young man edged closer, looking up at him curiously, "When was that?"

The older man laughed briefly as if in a private joke, "Before you were born, I would say."

"I will be twenty in the summer." He had no idea why he mentioned that particular detail, but his companion didn't seem to mind. "What made you come back?"

"I made a promise to... someone very dear," he said. He drew a deep breath, his gloved hand curled tightly around the railing.

The young man looked up at him, questions faded unspoken at the bleakness in his companion's eyes. He may not know about this man's story, but he knew enough about pain and loss. And the need to deal with them with quiet dignity.

"My mother...," he said slowly. "She used to bring me here when I was little." He stretched his arm to encompass the waters before them. "The Sea of Japan, she would tell me. It is so much a part of our history, as it is our lives. This is where you were born. No matter where you go, this will always be a part of you. We moved to Tokyo when I started university but two years ago she insisted on coming back here. I didn't know then that she..." his voice trailed off and he swallowed heavily. "Sorry."

The man beside him had remained quiet, watching him, though his eyes seemed to gaze at something far beyond.

"This place...," he murmured almost to himself. "It was where it all began."

_Are you not afraid?_

_No, I need not be afraid._

"He had always wanted to return here, but so many things held us back. I thought... I thought we had time."

_The Sea of Japan constantly weeps... I hear its cries in my heart._

The younger man waited, but his companion said no more. It was he who spoke instead. "For a while, I could not return here. I was afraid of what I would find... what I would not find. What has changed and what has not."

_The wind is still blowing... the soundwaves have not changed._

_If there is any regret, it is only that I wouldn't leave you with._

_You are still here..._

The wind shrieked and howled around them, driving the waves to crash violently against the seawall beneath them.

The waves that had washed away the past into the sea.

The sea that had borne witness to a promise from long ago.

"If you truly love your mother, then you have nothing to fear," the older man finally said. "She will always be with you."

"Are you telling me that my mother's soul is in heaven watching over me everyday?" There was a hint of sarcasm in the youngster's voice. "It's what everyone has been telling me for the past year."

The older man was quiet for a while, turning away slightly as if an emotion so powerful gripped him for a moment. "No," he answered firmly. "She is already gone. Her soul will be purified and reincarnated as another person with no memories of you at all. You may meet her on the street and would not even know her."

The young man looked up at him aghast at this almost brutal statement. "You-!"

"The task of remembering lies with you," the other man continued. He stared out once more into the darkness. "The person you knew as your mother will continue to live on because there is you. It is you who will continue to walk this earth, reminding others of your mother. And with each person you meet, a part of her will be known to them as well because of you."

It was the young man's turn to be silent. When he finally spoke, his eyes shone softly. "Such as you, for example?"

The man smiled again that small wistful smile. "I now know that there was once a wonderful woman who lived here. Twenty years ago, she had a child who grew up to be brave young man who was afraid to be left alone, yet had a heart generous enough to offer a kind word to strangers."

A strong gust of wind suddenly blew across the water, pelting them both with the harsh breath of snow and seawater. Both men braced themselves against its force, the older man instinctively shielding the other with his own body.

"You should go back now," he told the young man when the snow had cleared. "I will be leaving soon as well."

Black-gloved hands reached out to the young man, gently ruffling the dark hair beneath the woolen cap. Fingers tugged at the collar of his coat, tucking it more snugly about his neck, forcing the downbent head to look up. He stepped back and they gestured to each other in farewell.

When the young man straightened, a distinct glimmer, almost familiar gold flitted across his eyes. "Thank you," he smiled and quickly turned away.

He watched the young man go, break into a run and disappear down the steps leading back to the city.

_That was... rather like you, wasn't it?_

Turning back towards the sea, his eyes widened.

A thin sheen of frost now covered the surface of the water. A mere moment later, the waves surged, shattering the ice.

_The Sea of Japan constantly weeps..._

_Let the snow lull it to sleep..._

And he smiled.

_Welcome home, my love._

-END-

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><p>Note: Obviously it's the wrong season for the story's setting. Heh, I'm not even sure if I got the right setting. *sigh* But I hope the message is still relevant. And as always, please feel free to knock some sense into me.<p> 


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